Her Moons Denouement (Fallen Angels Book 2) (19 page)

BOOK: Her Moons Denouement (Fallen Angels Book 2)
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Chapter 29

‘Sorry boys and girls, I know this is another late one but as you are no doubt aware from all of the press coverage on this today, our friends the ‘Fallen Angels’ don’t appear to be sleeping.  So if they don’t sleep, we don’t sleep.  It’s another day when we have been made to look like a bunch of amateurs.  A day when the Superintendent has had to step in and invoke a Major Incident.  A day when we have moved from enticement to incitement.  And, I have to be brutal with all of us here, another day when we don’t have the first fucking clue.  A Detective from out of the area who is signed off on the sick is having more success figuring this case out than we are!’   

Cruickshank paced up and down in front of the evidence boards in the incident room, glaring out into the audience of tired, browbeaten Detectives with a look of simmering fury.  She stabbed a finger vehemently into the latest set of pictures on the boards, those of Chodak, his victims and the ‘Fallen Angel’ who committed suicide.

‘Another mass murderer, another set of victims, another person dead and still no clues to point us in the direction of the ‘Fallen Angels’.  McCalvey, have we had anything back from forensics on the search of Aira Lee’s apartment?’

DI McCalvey shuffled nervously in his chair and shook his head disconsolately.  ‘Nothing at all Ma’am.  It is spotless.  There aren’t even any of her fingerprints.  The only things in the place apart from a few bits of furniture were a painting in the kitchen and the photograph of Chodak in military fatigues along with the same man who was in the other two photographs of the killers.  We still don’t have any ID on him.’

‘What about the fatigues?  What army was Chodak fighting for?’

‘Another extremist group, the Democratic Karen Buddhist Army.  They are a breakaway group who support Burmese government offensives against the predominantly Christian led Karen National Liberation Army.’

‘And GCHQ are certain they have never seen this man?’

‘Absolutely certain Ma’am.’

‘Okay.  Well, keep searching.  Tait, I want you to take a different tack with Bentley.  Just confronting him with the evidence hasn’t worked, and by the way, you are probably the only one of us today that seems to have gathered some real leads, so well done.  Is everyone else taking note?’  Cruickshank highlighted, looking disparagingly around the rest of the Detectives.  ‘I want you to play the superior friend card now.  Get in there and tell him what a bastard I am and how you realise there is no concrete evidence against him.  Go all out with the empathy.  Try to get him to confide in you.  Not in an interview room.  Keep it all off the record.  Take him a cuppa in his cell.  Can you do that?’

‘Yes Ma’am.’  Tait answered crisply, her eyes buoyed by the compliment Cruickshank paid, but her expression acutely embarrassed under the withering glances from her colleagues.   

‘Good, now everyone, back to it.  I have to prep with the Super now for tomorrow morning’s press conference and have to try and present a silk purse out of this pig’s ear of a case.’

Tait waited for everyone to leave, then slowly and thoughtfully followed them all out.  She headed down the corridor to the tea room and picked up Bentley’s chipped Celtic mug, pouring coffee from the warming percolator into it.  She looked around the empty room furtively, before slipped something into the coffee.  She wandered down to the booking desk and smiled at the Duty Sergeant.

‘Evening Fred.  Shankers wants me to have a chat with Bentley.  I’m taking him a coffee.  Is that okay?’

‘Just sign your name in blood and remember to yodel if he attacks you.’  Sergeant Calvey replied with a deadpan face.

Tait smiled as he led her down the row of locked cells and opened the door to Bentley’s.  She walked in, Calvey locking the door behind her. 

‘Behave yourself Bentley and remember Tait, yodel if he doesn’t.’  Calvey shouted through the observation hatch before slamming it shut.

Bentley was sitting against the wall on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands pushed deep into the pockets of the dirty raincoat he had pulled tight around him.  His face was streaked with sweat and caked on blood, hair matted to his forehead.  He was looking down at his lace-less, scuffed Doc Martins and didn’t look up to acknowledge Tait.  She sat down on the floor next to him, putting her legs out straight as well and proffered him the coffee. 

‘Peace offering.’ she said, simply.

Bentley took a hand out of his pocket and let it circle his mug, then raised it to his lips and took a long, lingering slurp of the dark, dense liquid, not once looking away from his boots nor offering any kind of gratitude.

‘Shankers asked me to come in and play the superior friend card on you.  She wanted me to tell you that it was her making me ask the questions earlier.  Told me to talk to you off the record, gain your confidence and see if I can wheedle out of you whatever it is you know.’ Tait said, speaking softly, with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

Bentley didn’t answer.  He took another sip of coffee, then turned his head and looked into her wide, naïve blue eyes.

‘What the fuck’s going on Bentley.  Did you really know what was happening between your dad and sister?’  Tait asked in a hushed voice brimming with incredulity.

His gaze dropped in embarrassment, looking back to the scuffs on his boots.  The only sound in the cell was the slight wheeze of his breath and the crinkling of his raincoat as his chest rose and fell.  They were augmented by a loud slurp as he took another gulp of coffee.

‘Yes, I really knew.  Just as I really know that your boyfriend hits you.  Just because you know something, it doesn’t automatically give you the right to have an opinion.  It certainly doesn’t give you the right to interfere.’ he answered quietly, not looking from his boots once.

Tait’s jaw dropped in surprised panic, her bottom lip trembling as she tried to compose herself to speak.  ‘He…’ she started but was immediately interrupted.

‘I don’t want you to defend him.  That’s not why I said it.  My point was, we all have lives behind closed doors.  I can see you find the life behind my closed door disturbing.  I could say the same about yours, but I don’t.  I know it’s not something anyone would level at me, but I would like to think that I have a little empathy for the things people want to keep private.  It’s only if you laud your life in front of me that I’ll rip you to shreds.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to judge, it’s just, well to be honest my gut reaction was shock.  Shock that you knew.’

‘I understand that.  Thanks for the coffee, you didn’t have to make a peace offering.  You did a good job in the interviews earlier.  If I had those facts, I would have done the same, but probably with a bit more fucking swearing.’

‘It didn’t break you though, so either there is nothing there to break, or you are one hard heartless bastard.’

‘Which one do you think it is?’ he said, a glimmer of a smile crossing his anguished lips.

‘I think it’s the far end of both.  Something there to break, but with a big soft heart.’ she replied with candour.

‘Is that why you aren’t playing superior friend?’

Tait paused, her bottom lip trembling again as she gathered her composure.  ‘You know, over the past few days working with you, you have been nothing but supportive.  Challenging, bloody minded, belligerent and boorish, yes:  but my overriding feeling is of being supported.  I don’t want to be a boss.  I don’t want to be superior.  Right now I don’t even want to be a police officer.  I just want to be a friend.  Not because I think you haven’t done anything wrong.  But because I think you have.’ she finished, fidgeting with her fingers as she looked openly at him.

Bentley stared at her for the longest of moments, taking in every aspect of her gaze.  He looked back down at this boots and took another slurp of coffee.

‘I was thirteen when mum left.  Dessie was just coming up to her sixteenth birthday.  Father took it hard.  In the space of a few days he lost his wife and his career.  He knew it was his fault.  He knew there was no one else to blame.  But it didn’t stop him trying to blame someone else.  I guess I was the one that got the brunt of that.  Dessie is bipolar.  When she is up, she is really up and when she is down: well.  But she is good at controlling it, she know what helps to keep her up.  What helped to keep her up back then was becoming Mum.  She looked after us both, stepping in to do the cooking, the cleaning and the washing.  Organising the two men of the house.  She thrived and because he didn’t have to worry about anything other than himself, father did too.  He found religion then as well, taking the Presbyterian stance that everyone is born a sinner, and as such is subject to God’s wrath and the punishment of death. By God, did he use that wrath on me, literally.’

‘Were they intimate, even back then?’

‘No.  Please don’t think that father was a paedophile.  That isn’t the case at all.  Dessie became more than a Mum over time.  Dessie wanted to be more than a Mum and Dessie can be very persuasive when she wants to be.  She wanted to be a wife.  She wanted to do everything a wife would do for her husband.  She wanted to have a sexual relationship with father.  For a long time he refused, but she wore him down.  She was twenty.  It was then they started helping out at support groups for domestic violence.  Father felt it was something he could give back, to help atone for his sins.  I think it also helped him reconcile the relationship he has with Dessie. I am worried for them.  I think they may be scared and hiding.’

‘Hiding from what?’ Tait queried.

‘I told them someone was trying to set me up by involving people they had helped in the past.  I think they are scared that if people start looking into our family, society will judge their relationship, just as you did.’ Bentley responded, eyes filled with sadness.

‘Where do you think they are?’

‘I have no idea at all.’ he began, still looking at his boots.  Then his eyes shot up and he stared at Tait.  ‘Where’s Jackson, is someone taking care of Jackson?’

‘I think he’s still at your house.  There’s an officer stationed there at the moment.’

‘Could you find out for me?’ he asked imploringly, fear furrowing his forehead. 

‘Don’t worry, as a friend, I’ll find out. I’ll take him home if needs be.’

‘Thanks.’ Bentley said, relief washing over him.  He took a last swig of coffee and passed the cup back to Tait.  ‘Thanks for listening and not questioning.  Best of luck explaining that to Shankers!’ he finished, the briefest flash of his fiery temperament enlivening the words.

Tait stood up and approached the door, banging on it loudly.  ‘Just leave her to me.’ she said, smiling down at him sadly.

Sergeant Calvey opened the door and Tait left the cell, walking back to the Sergeant’s desk.  Cruickshank was sitting perched on the end of it, her arms crossed sternly, her expression just as severe.

‘Well, did the superior friend garner any compelling evidence?’

‘No Ma’am.  He was tight lipped, hardly said a word.’

 

Chapter 30

It is disappointing not to have found any sign of Madame Evangeline but I enjoyed my time with Rebecca.  To watch her reminisce about the things they did at the places we visited was uplifting.  The sheer love that oozed from every word she extolled, no matter how lewd they were, was just so heart warming.  My empathy was in overdrive because the way she talks about Madame Evangeline is exactly the way I feel about Jess.  My emotions are still so mixed up about her.  I know Rebecca is finding it hard too.  We love her, but we both know that she has played us.  We both know she was involved in the deaths of the people we loved.  That doesn’t seem to stop our hearts yearning for her again.  Why is that?

I pop the key card into the lock of my hotel door and open it into near darkness.  I enter the room and close it.  I don’t put the light on, but walk over to the window and open it, looking out over the city, seeing the nearly full moon peeking out from a layer of cloud low in the late evening sky.  I turn to the left as I hear a window being raised and watch as Rebecca swings her legs out of it, her knee length pencil skirt rucked up around her hips to give the legs freedom.  She smiles over to me with that same playful look she has had on her face all night as she prowls the narrow ledge with feline elegance and arrives in front of the window, not once using a hand to steady herself.

‘Would you help a lady in kind Sir?’ she mocks, managing a small curtsy on the ledge.  My heart jumps as I briefly think she is falling.

‘More a whore than a lady tonight I think.’ as I hold her hand and feign helping her through the window.  Not that she needs any help at all as she demurely steps onto the carpet in her black stilettos and adjusts her skirt.

Suddenly, her hand grips mine tight and I feel her whole body tense. 

‘There’s someone in the room John.’ she whispers sibilantly, looking at the degrees of darkness over by the wall where most of the evidence is pinned.  I look over as well, towards the outline of a chair which I know is over there.  There is a subtle movement of shadows on the chair and the sound of ice clinking in a glass as it is placed on a table.

‘I am so pleased the two of you have met at long last.  I am even happier that you are getting on so well.’

Rebecca grips me even tighter and I reciprocate, the voice causing my throat to constrict, my heart to race and my whole body to start quivering.  I know the voice.  I know the woman.

The shadow stretches as she stands and slinks into a sliver of illumination sculpted by the moon, her long slender legs visible all the way to toned, bare thighs hugged by a short red leather skirt.  A black sleeveless camisole top floats over her slim torso, swishing in the breeze of her strides as her long black hair framing a delicate, beautiful face enters the shaft of moonlight.

‘Not even a ‘Hello’ from either of you for your old lover?’ she says, her tone low and sultry, simmering and provocative.

I can’t even speak.  I am mesmerised.  She is alive.  There is no doubt.  She is right in front of me.  She is walking right towards me in the flesh.  In the most beautiful, sensual, curvaceous flesh I have ever known.

Jessica takes one last stride and is right in front of us.  She raises a hand and my gaze follows it hypnotically as she cups Rebecca’s chin and pulls it towards her face, to her parting lips, to her protruding tongue that sinks itself eagerly into Rebecca’s opening, reciprocating mouth.  Rebecca yelps as the urgency of the kiss overwhelms her, her knees sagging slightly.  Jessica breaks the kiss suddenly, staring straight into my eyes and tilting her head towards me, mine moving closer to hers of its own volition until her tongue eagerly explores the inside of my willing mouth.  My body aches under her touch. She breaks and takes a step back.

‘You will have questions.  Tonight, I will answer three, so think carefully on what they will be.  But I will only answer them if you agree to do whatever I want in return.  Whatever I want.  There are no safe words.  I will do exactly as I please.  You both have to agree.  If you don’t, I leave.’

I start to speak, my countenance expressing concern, my mind screaming a million things at me, a million things I want to say.  She puts a finger quickly onto my opening lips.

‘Shush.  There is no debate in this.  You have a choice, but those choices are ‘Yes’ or ‘No’.  They are the only words I want to hear.  Anything other than two ‘Yeses’ and I leave.’

I cannot take my eyes off her commanding emerald eyes.  Her voice is intoxicating.  I can’t let her go.  But can I agree to anything in return?  Will Rebecca agree to anything in return?  I feel her hand squeeze mine:  just once.

‘Yes.’ we both say simultaneously, uncontrollable yearning dripping from the word.

‘Rebecca, you have a few minutes to think of your first question while I do one of the things I want to do.  Just stand there and watch while you think.’ Jessica orders, taking a step closer to me.

Her hands reach out to the buckle on my belt and I instinctively step back.  She grabs it and pulls me forward, right into to her chest, into the heady fragrance of her perfume.  She kisses me forcefully, undoing my belt and my trousers deftly, yanking them down and taking my underpants as well.  I grimace as she kisses, as her hand catches my still scabbed and slightly weeping penis.  My now fully erect scabbed and slightly weeping penis.  She pulls her short skirt the small distance up over her pantie-less buttocks and then raises a long leg and circles it around my back, pushing her groin into my cock, roughly jiggling her hips until my tip finds her wet, gaping lips. 

She grabs my hands as she lowers herself onto me, standing on one leg, pulling her other leg tight into my backside.  She presses her thumbs into the stigmata in my palms and bites my tongue as she kisses me furiously, her hips moving up and down along my length, the muscles of her cunt constricting tightly around my aching cock.  She pulls my hands around from my sides and forces them onto her bare behind, breaking the kiss for a frantic breath.  She sneers at me, forcing my hands hard into her arse.

‘Fuck me hard and don’t stop until you come!’ she orders aggressively, pushing herself down onto me quicker and quicker.  My heart is racing, blood coursing through my veins all the way down to my groin as the mixture of pleasure and pain overwhelms my mind.  My balls start to tighten in the glow of orgasm as she pumps harder and harder, my cock swelling uncontrollably inside her as the rush starts and I grunt with every earthy thrust.  I throw my head back, clasping her bum so tight I lift her off the ground as the first spurt of ejaculate shoots up inside her and I scream, inflicting half a dozen more forceful thrusts upon her, before I am spent, my face ruddy, my whole body dripping in sweat.  I pull her torso tightly into me, still deep inside, feeling her whole body against mine, bathing in the afterglow.

She reaches up and kisses me, taking a lip between her teeth and biting it, drawing blood as she breaks. 

‘I have missed that John.  I have missed you.’ she says through tear filled, sweating eyes, her smile soft and radiant.  Still sitting on my length, she turns to Rebecca.

Rebecca who has her skirt around her waist, who has a hand in her panties pleasuring herself.

‘I’ve taught you well.’  Jessica says, still squeezing me inside her.

‘But you might want to stop while you ask me your question.’

Rebecca didn’t stop, just looked deep into Jessica’s eyes with a fiery unrequited passion.

‘Who are you, really?  John knows you as Jess, I know you as Madame Evangeline, Michael knew you as Eve.’

‘I am all of them, depending on who I want to be.  But it’s not the name that is important, it is the person that I am.  The person you all fell in love with.  I was born Jessica Seymour.  My father was Henry Seymour, although you will know him as my late husband.  I have had many names in my life, but the one I go by most of the time nowadays is Eve.  I would like you to call me Eve.  That is all.  Now John, your turn to think of a question.  I think Rebecca may need a hand.’

Eve lifts herself off my still erect penis and walks the single step to Rebecca, slinking a hand inside her panties to join the one already in there.  Eve grabs Rebecca’s free hand and thrusts it between her cum dripping thighs, forcing three of Rebecca’s fingers deep inside herself.  My penis is still rock hard and I stroke it as I watch them, kicking my trousers from my ankles as I do.  Eve pulls Rebecca tight into her, so that their groins are almost touching, so that the frantically moving hands are banging off each other. They both lean heads in forcefully and start to kiss frantically, the agitated excitement building, their hands moving more rapidly.  Both start to moan amongst the kisses, hips bucking under the intensity of the fingering.  My throat is dry, my own pulse racing, watching two women frig the life out of themselves.  They break mouths simultaneously, both breathing heavily, both staring intently into their glistening emerald eyes.  Deep frantic panting, forceful finger thrusts, faster and faster, until they both throw their heads back and scream in the throes of orgasm.

Eve looks longingly at Rebecca, takes a hand from between her legs and licks the glistening juices off her fingers.  ‘It has been far too long my beautiful lover.’ she says wistfully, running one of those fingers down the outline of the scars on a cheek.  ‘We let you down.  You should never have been in that institute.  Your question John.’

Oh god, my mind isn’t even thinking about questions, it is thinking about the two of them pleasuring each other, it is thinking about fucking Eve.  They let Rebecca down.  Why?

‘Why did you do this to us?  Why did you put Rebecca in a position where she fucked her son?  Why did you put me in a position where I killed my wife and thought I had killed my son?’

‘Life is about choice.  Life is about experience.  Experience dictates the choices you make.  Experience defines your life.  We all have filters.  Fears, ideals, morals, beliefs.  Things that can influence the choices we make and the experiences we expose ourselves to.  Why?  We wanted to see how you would react with the filters taken away.  My last desire now before your last question, so think carefully.’

Eve backs away from Rebecca, running her hands down between her own legs pleasurably as she does, then running them up her body, over her breasts as she reaches the edge of the bed.  She sits down and pushes her body backward onto the bed, onto her back, head resting on the pillows, knees in the air, legs wide apart.  Her shaven, glistening, gaping lips stare out at me and make my thick length throb.  I want her again.

‘Rebecca I want you between my legs, licking my lips, sucking my clit, hands playing with my breasts, bringing me off.  Take your panties off.  John, I want you behind Rebecca, watching her cunt as she pleasures me.  I want you to do what your body tells you to do.  Every single thing your body tells you to.’

Rebecca looks at me and reaches out a hand, squeezing it once as she leads me over to the bed.  She slips her panties off and then crawls onto the bed, between Eve’s thighs, her stunted tongue going straight in to drink the mix of love juices.  I watch as her behind rises into the air, as her shaven, naked cunt and pulsing anus stare right up at me.  Eve is watching me, her face contorted in pleasure, her hands pushing Rebecca’s head into her groin, her lips whispering encouragement.  Rebecca starts to gyrate her hips, the rhythmic motion hypnotising me, drawing me in.  I step closer and take my penis in my hand.  I let the tip touch her moving bum cheeks, let the feeling of the wisps of her flesh against it wash over me.  My mind is telling me that I shouldn’t be doing this.  I don’t really know Rebecca.  But every other sinew of me being is willing me to enter her.  I move my cock closer, letting it linger in the cleavage of her cheeks, letting it ride with her rhythm.  I slide it down the crease, letting it rest on the slightly open anus.  I push gently, the minutest part of my tip entering her and hear a timorous shriek.  I pull back, scared that I have hurt her.  But that is what I want to do, with every single fibre of my being. 

‘Do it John.  Do what your body tells you to do.’ Eve says as she sees me pull back, her eyes rolling ecstatically as she speaks.

I move back in, letting my end ride her crease again, letting it naturally dance with her cheeks, letting it find a natural place against her anus.  And I push.  And Rebecca screams, forcing her backside against me.  I put my hands on her bum cheeks, grabbing them and pulling as she thrusts back onto me, sinking my whole length inside her, then use my hips to pull it back, then in, then back.  I slide my hands down her back, watching Eve loll her head in the bliss of cunnilingus, hearing her moaning grow in intensity.  I slip my hands under Rebecca’s blouse, and around her front, cupping her braless breasts, circling the nipples between my thumb and forefinger.  I squeeze them tight, moving my hips faster and faster, sliding in and out of her, feeling another orgasm growing, feeling Rebecca pushing herself hard against me,  feeling Eve’s eyes burning into me passionately.  I start moaning, start growing, start throbbing, and jerk, forcing the orgasm hard into Rebecca’s arse, forcing Rebecca’s head right into Eve’s cunt, forcing both Eve and Rebecca to scream.

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